


ice cream

by writeiolite



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, How Do I Tag, Light BDSM, Nipple Clamps, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26589211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeiolite/pseuds/writeiolite
Summary: suguru's favorite desserts include ice cream and girls who taste like it — aka, you
Relationships: Daishou Suguru/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52
Collections: Comms





	ice cream

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted on my tumblr, writeiolite
> 
> [ ! ] if you want to use this fic in a reading video (like ASMR or smth), please dm/inbox me on tumblr or comment here and get my permission first

There’s something about you that’s so sweet it _hurts_ — the kind of tooth-aching pain that follows a gulp of sugary syrup. And while that raids his senses, you’re simultaneously so _cold_ he can’t take a bite out of you without getting a brain-freeze.

That’s fine with Suguru — he prefers to lick away at each saccharine drip oozing out from between your legs anyway.

If it wasn’t what you wanted then Suguru will stick a needle in his eye — liar, liar, pants on fire, he’s probably already on his way to the Doors Downstairs. There’s a special pocket in there for people like him — men that are so terribly addicted to having their heads between a woman’s thighs and their ears squeezed shut. If he had to pick where to die, it would definitely be there, but it couldn’t just be anyone. He’s had his fair share of girlfriends, fuck buddies, and flings, but none of them held a candle to the angel he’s carved you out to be in his head.

You could send him to heaven and back with just your legs — hell, with just a stare — and he’d probably come crawling back to you no matter what. If it’s witchcraft then so be it. If you’re a powerful demon then that’s fine. He’d take anything as long as it meant getting to taste the addicting sweetness hidden in your folds one more time.

“Just one more round, you can do it.”

“Let me hear you cum — that’s the best part.”

“Don’t take them off, you look so beautiful.”

“You always know how to get me going.”

Praise was never sought out when it came to Suguru. He delivered it bountifully, whispering appreciation into the flesh of your hips, dragging his fingers down your thighs, and kissing the lines that followed. If he couldn't speak it, he’d show it, and it didn’t stop there.

Too many times you’ve received a text from him, the image(s) typically from one of your many nights together: your thighs hugging his length and a slight glisten on them — lube or arousal? you can’t remember now — like they’re a shiny, favorite toy for him. A cheeky follow up of “miss this. u miss it too?” and you’d fall right into his hands, a dumb grin fighting with a forced scowl because _god,_ what is it about him that makes you keep coming back?

The sex? The texts? The not-dates at the family-owned diner? If anyone is under a spell, it’s you.

In your easily accessible outfit with your hair up and his favorite perfume wafting through the air in his apartment’s walkway… yeah, it’s definitely you.

“Oh thank god,” he dramatically opens his arms for a hug, not even waiting for you to mirror him before he’s lifting you up, hands greedily gripping your body. As if you wouldn’t notice. “I thought you were going out of town and never coming back, hm?”

You vaguely remember telling him that... A teasing joke, of course, words you only said because someone couldn’t keep it in his pants in the goddamn drive-thru. “I can turn around?” you suggest, pointing over your shoulder with your thumb while the other arm loops around his neck.

“Oh, by all means,” he grins out, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you turn around one or two times.”

Typical. Good, but typical. And like always, you can’t stop yourself from snickering.

“Just shut up and bring me inside already.” If the neighbors didn’t know who you were by now… They _definitely_ have your name, and the longer you two stand out here, the more likely it is that they’ll piece together a dolled up, lusty-eyed face with it. Suguru, as much as you adore him and his antics, is _slow_ , parading you up the walkway like he’d won a trophy. “God, I can’t tell if this is some weird part of your foreplay or if you just _really_ want me to kick your ass,” and then you’re squirming out of his arms to bring yourself into his humble apartment.

It’s only after you hear the whistle behind you and see his cheery eyes (the hunger in them is a default by now) that you realize you fell right into his fanged jaws, ass and all.

“You look so good,” is all he says at the same time that you say “You’re so irritating.”

And despite your claims, you know your body will always betray you. Suguru’s subtle brags about knowing you best, pleasing you best, fucking you best; he makes sure they’re all hammered into you at every chance he gets. There’s no question from you when he walks into the kitchen to grab some juice and water — you’re following right behind him to help, even when he says he doesn’t want your “pretty self breaking a sweat.” It’s second nature when you follow him into his bedroom as if it were your own. You know what’s coming and if you _really_ thought he was getting on your nerves, you wouldn’t be looking at him like that: mirroring that stupid grin you get on to him for all the time.

“So, you gonna answer my question?” He asks as if it’s about the weather — as if he isn’t rummaging through the “toy box” he’s been building up for these fun nights with you — and you huff a laugh.

“Which one?”

“Are you gonna marry me or not? I’m getting old you know.” It’s a dumb reference to a dumb meme he sent this morning. He doesn’t have to look up from his search to show off his amusement, but that means he doesn’t see the look on your face either.

“Yeah? You sure are taking your time over there.” With a sigh, you lay back on his bed, the scent of his shower gel and the lotion you bought him wrapping you up. “I’m getting old over here. I don’t think anyone likes overripe peaches.”

“I’ll take _anything_ if it comes from you,” he corrects, all the leisure in the world rolling off of him while he stands up straight. “What if — and hear me out — we don’t use any of the normal toys today? I kinda wanna see you in clamps.”

 _Of course, you do_. You smile sweetly like you’re a saint in the midst of his sins and the only person who can really relieve him. “Would that make you happy? You know I want _nothing_ else in the world.”

His pants tighten to such an extent that you can _see_ it, your gaze flicking between his bobbing Adam’s apple and what would be a bobbing cock if his jeans weren’t restricting him. That’s another thing you’ll have to free him from. “Only one way to find out, hm?” is all he says before grabbing the mentioned toy and approaching you until you’re caged under him.

You already know the answer, of course, but this is all part of the addictive fun. If you thought he was being greedy with his hands before, his roaming eyes are setting the new standard. It doesn’t matter that you’re still clothed, he’s memorized the curves and dips of your body to such an extent that he can envision them beneath him right now in all their glory.

If he had it his way, you’d be in this position almost every night, living through his fantasies and indulging in scenes he’s envisioned for months on end. No amount of time together is enough for a man as drunk on you as he is. So even if it bothers you, he’ll take his time right now, watching you huff and shift while is nimble hands trail up your stomach to your chest and finally your neck.

“Someone’s fussy,” he taunts, giving a playful squeeze. It’s nothing compared to what you were hoping, but it does still you just a little.

“You’re taking your sweet time and I respect that but-” you lean up to capture his lips, only for his hand to force you back down and squeeze harder “-you know I just want you to ruin me again.”

Your voice, as quiet as it is with the slight strain, is still strong enough to make his cock even harder. That can’t be healthy — the effect you have on him — but he doesn’t mind. And you don’t mind, evident by the way you raise your hips into him like a magnetic force, bodies colliding like asteroids and filling him with the cosmic duty to unite the two of you as soon as humanly possible.

He almost gives in, if not for his own selfishness. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then I promise you this will be worth the wait.” His hands are warm against you, pulling your tank top off and reaching for the aforementioned toys you didn’t realize he had set down beside you. He’s patient while he dangles three clips in one hand above you, the rose gold chain dragging goosebumps over the skin of your stomach and chest before trailing back down once more. The effect it has is almost icy, your teeth clattering together out of reflex and jaw clenching in anticipation.

It’s just a chain — it can’t do any harm — but it’s the rubber-tipped clamps that grab your focus, finding temporary homes in Suguru’s fingers and brushing over your bare, peaked nipples. The slightest touch has the muscles in your legs twitching on instinct, his lips parted in adoring wonder when your stomach flutters with another pass over the buds.

“Tell me when to stop,” he instructs, “and use the safe word if things get overwhelming.” Two nods of reassurance and he opens two of the clamps, placing them around the sensitive flesh and giving you a second to get used to the hug they provide. After that, it’s all squeeze when he begins tightening one clamp in slow orbits of the screw, tingles going up and down your spine the tighter it gets until you voice for him to move to the next one. With calculated counts, he repeats the same, and the tingles grow to stars that twirl in your head with the cloudy feeling there.

“All good?”

“Just right.”

He smirks, using his grip on the last clamp and tugging down, pulling the chain into a taut Y and giving the perfect stretch to have your toes flexing and eyes falling shut. That sinful moan you release goes straight through him, shooting into his groin and dragging him closer to insanity.

“Feel good?” Another tug, this time with a quick jerk of his wrist, and you can only moan in response with your head nodding. “Looks like it. I think you’re ready for the third one, what do you think, babe?”

His free hand slithers a dangerous path down your torso and straight to your core, and you half expect him to give in and push the tiny little shorts to the side and finger you through your orgasm — it wouldn’t be the first time. Instead, he shoves your thighs further apart, letting him get closer only for him to lean away. And with him comes the pull, your pleasure all in his hand until he rests the third clamp and its chains on your stomach.

You’ve already forgotten he asked a question, and whether or not it was rhetorical didn’t cross your mind. He seems so focused on edging you with the nipple clamps alone that you don’t realize he’s waiting with that smug look on his devilish face, eyes creased with a smile that could only be a symbol of sinful satisfaction.

“Yes, I’m ready,” and then when he doesn’t make a single move, “please…?”

“I just love the sound of your voice. I’m gonna make sure I get to hear it _all_ night,” he happily sighs out, fingernails grazing your hips as he hooks your shorts and panties and pulls them down in one, smooth go. The hair on your legs stands on end as he tosses the garments over his shoulder, diving into his rightful place between your thighs without warning.

One deep breath in and a happy, warm hiss out over your slick-covered core and you nearly close your legs around him. And, of course, he notices, wicked enthusiasm lighting up his eyes when he looks up at you.

“Do it,” he dares, “we both know what comes next if you do. Didn’t you want me to hurry up?”

You did, god yes, you really did. But with all the trust you put in him, you can’t bring yourself to stop his upward momentum before he gets to the crest of your downfall.

“Just keep going,” you mutter, half begrudgingly and half in a trance when his hands smooth up and down the outsides of your thighs with more reserve than you were hoping for. It doesn’t match the look in his eyes.

Flashes of what he could do to you, of things he _has_ done to you, are burning through his irises, lining his thin pupils, and taking over his senses. The first taste on his tongue reminds brings about a shudder through his whole body before he finally immerses himself in you completely. What were once trembles become earthquakes inside of him. Because he’s anticipating more? Because he _needs_ more? The answer isn’t one he can easily find out on his own; it’s _so_ obvious what he has to do to get it.

Without warning, his tongue shifts from lapping against your sweet cunt to plunging into it, burying the appendage into your body like a lock and key, turning and pressing against every perfect spot with the precision to have you come apart too soon. One would think you’re used to it by now, desensitized to the effect he has on you or his techniques to gain control of your pleasure, but he outdoes himself each time. He’s determined to bring you to new heights just as the planets are determined to orbit the sun, both of which fall right into place where the universe wants them to be.

You’re only able to cling to the roots of his hair before you feel the first bump against your clit, what you can only assume is his finger trying to drive you over the edge even more. He drags up and down, the obscene _slurp_ in your core making your legs twitch once more as your little clit gets puffier under his touch. He must be feeling particularly cruel today, not slicking up his fingers before manipulating the little bud like this.

He pinches down right as the thought finishes, not letting up even as the planets fall out of the sky and your back shoots up like the crescent moon. And _fuck_ you let out the _sweetest_ cry then the pressure holds on even more, your eyes squeezed shut as he twists and twists until he’s finished counting and the clamp is secured right where he wants it on unsuspecting little you.

“Yeah?” One more lick into the creaminess between your thighs in response to your breathiness. “Feels good don’t it? You _look_ good. Cute little chain holding you together like this…” You think he’d stop — you hope he would because you’re slow to process his words as the numbing pressure takes a second too long to get used to. “And you _still_ kept your legs open for me.”

He hums and kisses into your thighs, hums like he’s _hungry_ for more, and takes the liberty of petting over your skin to soothe you down. “Good, good,” he mumbles, studying you with as much control as possible. He knows you think he does this — takes his time — to be cruel to you, but it hurts him a little too. What he would give to take advantage of your vulnerable state right now…

“You know how much I love seeing you like this,” he coos, pressing more wet kisses into the other thigh, affection seeping into your pores and grounding you as the most sensitive parts of your body feel so good yet so neglected all at once. He gives one last generous squeeze to your legs, wondering if he should leave hickeys again. Just _one_ more time… last time you weren’t that mad, so you wouldn’t mind right now. He just wants to feel them with every part of his being, and seeing you fight to keep them open just to give him a good view. He’ll make sure to fuck you good as a thank you.

Just one last suck to your dripping core and a small tug to the hoop holding the chains together in the center and he starts making good on his last wish. His eyes close now, tongue laving over the inside of your thigh until he closes his mouth around the spot he wants, just one of many. He’s going to make _sure_ these are just for his eyes, something he can tease you about tomorrow when you’re back again. There’s no way you’d wait longer than that; he knows he fucking can’t, not when you _finally_ try to close your legs, giving up the battle and pulling at his hair once more. He could cum just from that, just from being trapped there, and he’s going to drive back into the sweet, sweet dessert that’s radiating heat in front of him, but your moan of his name gets his attention.

“No more,” you whine, the defeat evident in your voice with the desperation he’s proudly familiar with. “I want you to fuck me with these on. Please?”

It’s not the first time you’ve spoken to him like that — all broken and needy for him while your pussy clenches with little wet sounds meant only for his ears — but it _always_ gets to him like a man possessed. Again, another spell. He doesn’t need to hear any more, pushing your thighs apart and fingers twitching tighter when you moan from the stretch he’s forcing you into.

“You’re cleaning my cock up after this, babe,” he breathes out, the words a hiss of pleasure and nearly pain — he wants to cum he really, really, _really_ , wants to cum. Right inside of you and then make you suck him off, but just a few inches in and you’re even _tighter_. Is that fucking possible? He looks down, lips parted and mouth watering at the sight of you pulling him back in when he tries to draw his hips away. He never intended on pulling out far, but you just want him that bad, huh?

He smirks, paving his way forward with his girth and splitting you open while the clamps hold you together, albeit with sensations that have your head spinning, but it’s all the same with him. He always takes niiiice care of you, shifting your legs over his shoulders and drilling forward, making sure you remember the shape of his cock, remember the feeling of his balls plush against your ass, and remember the squeezing tug when he pulls on the hoop, holding it up and taut so your little buds go with it.

You practically can feel your life leaving you — he can see it too, nearly cumming when your eyes gloss over then roll back. Fuck… yeah, he could cum just from that sight, his hips upping the ante without him meaning to, his instincts just scream for him to do anything it’ll take to see your pleasure. His knuckles are white over the rosy hoop, clinging like it’s the only thing holding _him_ together now, but each thrust shifts your body under the pull of the clamps, and each one is a push closer to coming undone beneath him.

A whimper of his name — at least he thinks it’s his name — bubbles up out of your throat, smooshed between moans and the wet slapping when his pelvis bounces against the soft flesh of your thighs.

“You’re really starting to clamp down on me, princess,” he grits. “Want me to cum that badly? You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?”

You shake your head. He’s pounding into you so hard that if you speak you might bite your own tongue, but he _really_ doesn’t seem to care. The hunger on his face and the hand sinking its nails into your thigh is filling your senses. All the feeling has run elsewhere, and when he slaps his hand across your thigh, you can’t help it when you clench down again. You’re helpless beneath him, practically leashed and panting, but he looks at you with such an animalistic stare beneath furrowed brows that you go stiff.

It takes a second for you to realize you’re cumming already, and not a second more all the feeling rushes back into your clit and nipples when he takes off the clamps, electricity shooting through you and racking every nerve in your body. It’s too much — too hot, too tingly, and for Suguru, too _tight_ and _wet_ and _fuck_ he’s cumming before he can even realize what’s happening. All he can do is follow his instincts, burying the head of his cock snug against the opening of your womb right where he wants to be, hands planted beside you and hips humping against you on their own.

“Holllyyyyyy shit,” he breathes, sweat on his temple and head fuzzy. When was the last time he came that fast? He’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t smug about how quick _you_ came, pride lapping away at his senses while he watches you catch your breath. “I’d apologize for being a quick shot but-”

“Shut up and lay back,” you try to move your legs, the muscles too loose but tense all at once. Everything is _hot_ , and you feel like you’re melting but you want more. The high that came with all the blood rushing back to your sensitive zones is leaving you with a crash you don’t want to dive into any further.

Your squirming, as fruitless as it is, makes Suguru moan. If you’re purposely squeezing him again then it’s definitely working, making him twitch inside you even when he’s going soft.

“Babe, you gotta stop,” he groans, letting your legs down and pulling out slowly. He watches the creamy white stream out of you, faltering for a moment as he wonders… would you mind if he ate you out again to make up for his performance? He’d definitely get hard again if he did… Maybe this time you can muffle his hearing with your thighs and lock him down there and-

You’re already rolling him over, straddling his face and ignoring the stickiness running down your thighs. “If you’re gonna stare so much then you should get to work,” you demand, reaching for the clamps he had cast aside earlier. You _really_ enjoyed them, clenching around nothing just at the thought of putting them on yourself.

Suguru moans while he watches your pussy, nearly hypnotized. Seeing your cute hole push out more of his cum… god you’re ruining him. He takes one blunt lick against your clit and then he’s home, latching on and dipping his tongue down to catch more of what you have to offer.

It’s too quick and too much at first, your body jolting away to alleviate the sudden pressure, but his hands are gripping your thighs again, squeezing and pulling you back down to him. They’re just right for him — the right amount of thickness for him to sink his fingers into so he can eat away at the sweet treat he owns. You can be cold to him any other time, but not with his head tucked away in your dripping heat.

“Nuh-uh, you wanted me here. You knew what you were getting into, baby girl.”

And you did. You really fucking did, but you couldn’t help yourself from letting him double dip when you’re this far in each other’s traps.

**Author's Note:**

> [read more fics, talk to me, and show support on my tumblr.](https://writeiolite.tumblr.com)
> 
> [ ! ] if you want to use this fic in a reading video (like ASMR or smth), please dm/inbox me on tumblr or comment here and get my permission first


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